Do you like scary stories? How about monsters and things that go bump in the night? If you do, then I have the collection for you. This is an anthology of short scary stories, all of which are original; with more being added as time goes on. If you...
There's a legend in Hope County about the Baxter Hotel. Now, this hotel was one of the fanciest hotels around. People would come from all over to stay in one of those rooms. For a long time, the hotel brought in a lot of money; enough to make old Baxter a very rich man. It seemed like the hotel would never go away.
That is, until the day a pair of robbers came to the hotel. Now, these two had been on the run for several weeks, having robbed from everywhere from San Juan to DC. They made the hotel their last stand. By the time the sheriff and his men showed up, the robbers had the hotel locked up tight. The standoff lasted for several days until the lawmen managed to break through. A bloody gunfight broke out and most everyone there died. The hotel was closed and Baxter lost everything.
Some people said that it had happened on account of cursed gold the robbers had taken from over the sea. People avoided the hotel from that day forward. Only the most foolish of people would go inside. None were ever heard from ever again.
Erin was neither brave nor foolish. He was simply a man who, like Baxter, lost most everything in life. Without home or family, he wandered the roads for several days before stumbling on the hotel on the hill.
He had never heard the legends of the hotel seeing as he had lived a few counties over. And, given that a terrible storm was brewing, he decided to take shelter inside.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
By this time, night had begun to fall. Erin gathered himself some old newspaper and books and made a great big fire for himself. As he warmed himself over the flames, he listened to the rain patter overhead. It almost sounded like horse hooves in the distance. He began to sing a song his mother had taught him. It went something like this:
"Give me a coin, and I'll give you a chance.
Come to the fire and we'll have us a dance.
Step in the light, now don't you be shy.
Give me a coin 'fore I die.
One last dance, 'fore I die..."
He sang the song until the flames grew weak, and the wind, strong. The storm only got worse and worse. He would have to find himself a room while he still had some fire to see by. With the dark getting thicker and thicker around him, Erin plucked a chair leg from the fire and used it as a torch. He would find a room and ride out the storm there.
Yet, as he neared the great big hall off to the side of the reception desk, a bell rang out loud and clear.
Erin stopped.
"Hello?" He said, waving his torch over the gloom.
No one answered. He then saw on the reception desk, a small silver bell. Something black, and dried, like blood, mingled with its heavy coating of dust. It hadn't been touched in many years. There was no other bell in sight. Had it made the sound?
